


Something For My Rag And Bone Man

by Cryptkeeper (orphan_account), VultureLovesong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood, Dark Magic, Death Eaters, First War with Voldemort, Growing Up, Harry Potter was Raised by Voldemort, M/M, Mentor Voldemort, Scary Children, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), War Never Ends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5580124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cryptkeeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VultureLovesong/pseuds/VultureLovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things don't happen the way it was planned. Voldemort didn't kill Harry Potter in his crib, instead he snatched him away and raised him under his tutelage. Sixteen years later the Order of the Phoenix finally finds him by sheer luck and saves him. But did he really need to be saved, and more importantly, did he even want to be?</p><p>Adopted By VultureLovesong</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something For My Rag And Bone Man

**Something For My Rag And Bone Man by KissTheBoogeyman**

**Chapter One ~ Blackened Hearts and Shining Souls** ** **

Voldemort doesn't kill the one destined to become his defeater while he stands defenceless in his crib, staring down at the corpse of his mother with the sort of innocent confusion only one too young to understand death can.

It isn't that he lacks the stomach to do such an unforgivable act as kill a child not yet two years into his life. It is only rational to kill him. Killing him now would be a kindness. He'll never have to grow without knowing the love of his parents, never be raised in war like a weapon, and never have to experience the cruelty of their world. He can pass on into his next life having only known serenity and love. But, on the other hand, there is also much potential to having an equal. He has never found any save Dumbledore who could match him in skill or power. The prophecy is almost a spiderweb, and he stands but the defenceless stupid fly drawn in and trapped. Of course he is curious. Of course he wants to watch such a person come to be. And there in lies his delima. He can not have both. He can either watch his equal grow and know one day this tiny little creature will have the power to kill him, that one day their will be a time to choose between him or the child and both of them will not survive the encounter, or he can destroy him before he even has the chance to do anything. He should kill him, no will kill him, because he can not afford to let any threat come and keep him from his goals.

Apparently his inward delima has gone on long enough for the fifteen month old to decide that watching his mother's eternal slumber is no longer interesting, because he ignores the wand Voldemort has pointing at his forehead, and makes grabby hands at the man set on killing him. "Up!" the child says.

Well, the Dark Lord sees no reason why he should deny a last request. He had, after all, seen fit to leave Lily Potter alive on the request of one of his followers before she repeatedly refused to stand aside. Then again, what kind of mother would she be to leave her child to die. He steps over the red haired woman's cold body and picks the small child up. He is such a tiny innocent thing, and Voldemort almost feels like having such a pure thing in the very arms that have torn the wizarding world into chaos and destruction is near blasphemous. The child stares at him with painted green doe-like eyes, babbling happily, little fingers touching his serpentine face in a show of brave innocent curiosity only a small child like himself is capable of. Voldemort fixes the child with his deadliest glare, and all he does is tilt his head cutely and then push the corners of his mouth up.

"No sad." he says with a bright smile of his own, and Voldemort suddenly feels a tiny bit of something suspiciously like guilt and warmth all at once as he holds the precious little creature against his chest, and it is uncomfortable enough that he does not wish to experience it much longer.

"This will not cause you any pain, Harry Potter. You will be with your parents soon." he feels the need to say even though the child will not understand. He points his wand at the child's head. "Avada -"

He is inturupted by the sound of someone appearing in the room behind him, then spinning around to dodge the stunning hex sent at him by the auror he recognizes as one of the Potter's friends. Sirius Black if he recalls correctly. There are spells thrown back and forth, a rainbow of dark spells, light spells, and unforgivable curses not hitting their targets. He makes the best decision given the situation. Voldemort fires off three killing curses in quick succession, and as the man is distracted by the need to stay alive, he uses the fraction of a second window to cast a full body bind on him and apperates away with the child in his arms before his opponents body has even finished falling stiffly to the floor.

Alone in his manor with someone elses child in his arms the Dark Lord revisits his earlier decision. Maybe some company other than his followers could be nice for a little bit, and he already has the child anyways. He can always change his mind and kill him later after all.

Lucius Malfoy is the first to find out about the child. It is quite by accident. He apperates into the Dark Lord's manor with urgent news, knowing he is very likely to be put under the cruciatus for daring to set foot in his study unannounced, but knowing that this information can not wait. The sight he meets is not the one he expects, but then how could he have predicted that he would walk in on his fearsome lord sleeping at his desk, a baby cradled in his arms. Lucius decides then that it must take a special sort of skill to appear just as terrifying while sleeping with a child as one does when awake and throwing unforgivable curses out like sweets.

The child is the one who wakes up at the loud pop of his arrival, showing just how tired his lord myst be to sleep through it, and the fatherly instincts kick in before he can fully process that he is stepping well over his bounderies. Lucius spells tiny rainbow butterflies to circle over the child's head like he has seen his wife do for his own son, drawing the attention of the child easily, who shifts and wiggles a bit, which causes the Dark Lord to peak open his bleary claret eyes, blink a few times, then close his eyes to sleep again. Then he is suddenly sitting up with his wand pointed at Lucius, a fearsome expression on his serpentine face.

"Forgive me my lord." Lucius is on the ground bowing at his feet before he can fully realize he is doing so.

"What are you doing here?" Voldemort growls.

"I have news that could not wait." he answers quickly as he can. "I did not mean to sneak about as you slept."

There is an annoyed noise above him. "Get up and sit down." the Dark Lord orders. "Tell me what was so important that you had to come unannounced."

Lucius does asked. "Peter Pettigrew got himself captured by Aurors and has agreed to bargain for his freedom with names of current death eaters." Lucius informs, flinching when his lord abruptly stands up hissing in angry parseltongue.

The movement jostles and wakes the child up again, canceling the butterflies over his head. He starts to whimper and Lucius is momentarily taken aback when his Lord starts rocking his chair back and forth and shushing the black haired boy in his arms. The Malfoy patriarch only has to wait a few seconds until the Dark Lord has calmed his child before he is speaking.

"Once a traitor, always a traitor." he sneers. "What time is the rat's trial?"

"The trial is set for the seventh of December, but there is no guarantee that he won't loosen his tongue before then." Lucius answers.

"Sixteen days." Voldemort says almost to himself. "They're getting a bit lax, are they not? Almost as if they are baiting me." then he looks up at Lucius. "We can not afford to let Wormtail live, but such a long span between capture and trial reeks of a trap. I will task you to send one of our more disposable members to deal with him. Tell them that success will earn them a spot in my inner circle, but warn them that should they fail they had better kill themselves because no where on Earth will be safe for them."

"Might I suggest Barty Crouch?" Lucius questions. "He is eager for approval, has proven himself quite sneaky on multiple occasions, and his appearance in the Ministry would go quite unnoticed due to his father's position."

"Yes." Voldemort hisses. "He will do nicely. Set young Bartemius to the task. I want Pettigrew dead by sunrise."

"Yes my lord." Lucius says, and takes it as the dismissal it is, apperating away.

He can't help but dwell on the tiny child his lord managed to treat so gentle even as he was obviously irate, and he knows that had the child not been in his arms, he would have been cursed. Mostly though he wonders just who the little one belongs to. Is he the Dark Lord's child? He does not seem the type to want an heir considering all of them are well aware off his immorality, but the idea that the Dark Lord just found himself in the possession is even more ludicrous of an idea.

Harry is not even three years old when he asks the Dark Lord if he is his father, and then when answered negatively he proceeds to question where his parents are. Voldemort had long ago resolved not to hide anything from the child like Dumbledore was so apt to do, so he does not lie. "I killed them." he tells the toddler.

"Why?" he then innocently prompted.

"Because I wanted to." Voldemort answers.

"Why?" Harry tilts his head in confusion.

"Because we are at war and they had something I wanted." the Dark Lord says.

"What was it?" the child inquires innocently.

"I wanted you." he then tells the child.

There is a beat of silence then the black haired toddler opens his mouth again. There is no yelling like Voldemort expected. "What war?"

"A state of armed conflict between different nations or states or different groups within a nation or state." he answers diplomatically. When he recieves a blank confused look from the child he sighs. "It's a very big fight because of different opinions."

Harry nods. "That sound stupid." he decides. "Why not talk? Maybe they just confused."

"Talking has never worked. You will understand when you are older." Voldemort says, then he points at the boy's plate. "Finish your supper."

And Harry does.


End file.
